Darkness Thrives
by Attractive Today
Summary: The Doctor and Donna usually have a conversation as he flies (or crashes, it depends your view point) the TARDIS, but not this time; Normally, when a phone goes off, the Doctor answers it in the TARDIS. Particually one of the actual console or the one kept in a drawer on the console. He learns that no matter who the said caller is, you don't answer it.


AN: Hello, I'm new to this site as well as writing Doctor Who whump. I've recently gone through (dare I say) a phase of sorts. Still am in it, actually. Oops. But, I love the idea of it all, the Doctor not always being the hero or the good guy. Nor him always being in a good physical (or mental) state. I don't have a great set up at this point, but I do hope this will go greatly. Bare with me, and I hope you will! We'll see how this works and if I do keep this set-up going. Apologies if my writing and plots have a few holes- it's a rough start. :)

I OWN NOTHING OF DOCTOR WHO. ALL RIGHTS GO TO BBC.

The setting begins in the ending of "The Doctor's Daughter".

**PROULOUGE- DARKNESS THRIVES.**

Silence filled the room, cutting off any connection. There were two sides that stood silent, staring. After the gunshot rang out, it was painful. On one side, a soft gurgling was heard in a chorus. A melody if you wished. Almost like water trickling down a smooth rock that had been worn down over the stage known as time moving on. It was.. peaceful. On the other, almost instantly, the owner of the gun had been brought down to his knees, head thrown back. Guns were pointed at his head, from both sides and behind. In the middle, two people stood. Both females stared down at the broken scene. A man with eccentric hair was mumbling. A few gentle tears shone freely as they rolled down his cheeks. His lips were thin, moving. No sound emerged anymore, just silence. The woman standing with her bright, ginger hair had a hand over her mouth. Another with darker skin and smooth hair was frozen, eyes wide.

The lips kept moving on the man's tear-filled face. In his arms and on his lap was a different woman. A brilliant woman. His daughter. With the whole set-up, she had blonde hair and brilliant eyes that gleamed when they were alive. Her hearts had stopped still, breathing had fled her lungs. Darkness had consumed her. Blood had fallen from the gunshot wound, staining her military green shirt. She was still as could be. He shook her once then twice. A plea left his lips, a whisper into the forgotten. A sob wretched its way through him. If you blinked, you would have missed it: the man moved the lifeless body to beside him, grabbed the gun, cocked it, and stood.

There was something new in his eyes- anger. Pure rage flowed through him, another sob wishing to come out. His ankle-length coat followed his movement, as though it was his cape. In an instant, he stood with a gun, pointed right at the temple of the killer. That bullet who killed his daughter was aimed for him. Just another one lost. It seemed for time to crawl on, dragging itself away. The man's hand shook, only a soft tremor. "I never would," he stated, dropping beside the man. His voice cut like knives, despite the quietness. "I never would!" He threw the gun to the ground, disgusted. The ginger woman had removed her hand, letting out a breath. "When you make this new society- of human and Hath, make it that. A man who never would!"

The tall figure leaned away, slipping into the dark shadows as he walked ahead. "Donna, are you okay?" The woman asked the ginger, clearing her throat. A soft sigh was heard. Who had released the sigh stood as a mystery.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. What about you, Martha?" The woman- Donna- tucked a piece of her hair to fit behind her ear as she looked at the other woman. She shook in her skin, mostly from the coolness of the air, but was caked in from the chin down. "And don't lie."

That brought a smile to her lips, and Martha simply nodded. "Freezing and probably smell weird from the mud, but I'm okay. Thanks for askin'." They sent each other a smile. It was quiet, peaceful. A second or two later, the man had shrugged off the huge jacket that went to his ankles. Without a word, he held it out behind him. It took a second, but Martha grinned. He was still the Doctor. She shrugged on the coat and snuggled into its warmth. A faint tangy, zesty smell with another scent omitted from the jacket. It smelled of old books and of what Martha assumed to be the Doctor.

After what seemed like ages, the trio appeared outside of a blue box. A gentle glow seemed to radiate from the machine. The Doctor smiled, eyes lighting up. He reached under his suit, pulling out a key on a rope chain. He bent down slightly as he moved the key and opened the door, his hand resting on the door. A soft nudge curled itself into his mind, a comforting relief. "Well, sorry Martha, but that was a rubbish one-trip. I know you don't want it to be like the first, but, hey, what're you gonna do? Sorry for dragging us into this mess." He stated, returning the key to its home. He opened the door by pushing inward and allowed the two women to enter. He gave them an award-winning smile and followed the pair inside. "Home?"

Martha nodded. "Home, please. It's okay, Doctor, I know you meant well. Then again, I missed it! The underline of almost dying and excitement!" She wore a childish smile. "Before you two go dashin' off, I have someone who needs to see you, Doctor. Back on Earth, I mean."


End file.
